


scattering of stars

by youheldyourbreath



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hilarity Ensues, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Spideychelle Week 2020, because women are incredible, canon adjacent, michelle jones is bi as hell, the problem with being bi as a woman is that it is ALL women and only A TINY TINY subset of men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youheldyourbreath/pseuds/youheldyourbreath
Summary: When she was a little girl, she used to ask for the story of her parents' soulmate touch every night before bed. It was sweet. He had touched her shoulder in a crowd and she had gotten her stars. Her father had a pattern akin to Cassiopeia on the tips of his fingers. They had looked at each other and smiled, and spent the whole night talking in some quaint coffee shop in Brooklyn.She had wondered if her own soulmate touch would be as miraculous, as special.Apparently not.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, minor Peter Parker/Liz Allen-Toomes
Comments: 32
Kudos: 214
Collections: Spideychelle Week 2020





	scattering of stars

Michelle Jones is twelve years old when she hits her soulmate in the face. 

She doesn't mean to hit him. She knows that violence is not justice. But she is so wildly embarrassed when he, on the first day of seventh grade, points out her ruined slacks that she panics. MJ is twelve years old and tampons are not a perfect science. Leaks happen. Unfortunately, in middle school, they are as good as a death sentence. 

She realizes he probably doesn't mean to intentionally embarrass her, but the pointed, "Oh my god, you're bleeding," coupled with the pointed finger makes her insides whither up and die. Her hand strikes out and slaps Peter Parker right across his face. The echo of her slap shocks her _and_ him, if his stunned expression is anything to go off of. 

The shock of her smack quadruples when a constellation of stars paint across her palm. To match, Peter Parker gains a pattern of misplaced stars, like freckles, across his cheek. 

They stare at each other, stupefied, and a little nervous. It is almost enough to make Michelle forget about her period malfunction. _Almost_. 

When she was a little girl, she used to ask for the story of her parents' soulmate touch every night before bed. It was sweet. He had touched her shoulder in a crowd and she had gotten her stars. Her father had a pattern akin to Cassiopeia on the tips of his fingers. They had looked at each other and smiled, and spent the whole night talking in some quaint coffee shop in Brooklyn. 

She had wondered if her own soulmate touch would be as miraculous, as special. Apparently not. 

Thankfully, a teacher, shoulders through the crowd of students watching on, some that noticed the soulmate touch, others that were too busy teasing MJ about her period mistake. "Parker. Jones." The voice booms. "My office. Now." 

* * *

The agony of getting a soulmate when you're too young to really want one is endless. Kids are cruel. And she doesn't need this soulmate thing to add to the fodder. They have plenty of things to tease MJ about as it is, including her recent period snafu. 

When she gets some distance, after she is picked up from school, she realizes she might have maybe, absolutely, totally overreacted. There is no excuse for hitting someone. Unless they're a Nazi. That is the golden rule. And Peter Parker doesn't strike her as a Nazi. She doesn't think she'd have a Nazi as a soulmate anyway.

Oof. She has a soulmate. She looks down at her open palm and sees at the starpoints where her hand collided with his face. The stars are almost pretty and, in that moment, MJ decides she does _not_ want a soulmate. 

* * *

When she walks into school the next day, kids are buzzing with the soulmate news. It is really uncommon for soulmates to meet so young. It is not unheard of, but it is unusual and, once again, Michelle is reduced to the weird kid. It is barely a consolation that if she is weird so is Peter Parker. 

The short, bean-pole sits next to her at lunch that day. She immediately clocks the light stars that swirl on his face. She is reminded again of how much they look like the most striking freckles she has ever seen, like a solar system. "Hi," he cracks. "I'm Peter." 

She returns to the tea she made for herself, whispering into the ledge of the cup, "I know." 

"You're Michelle." She nods. "We, uh, have a few classes together." 

"I know," she says and the back of her neck prickles. She can feel the entire cafeteria watching them. The soulmates. She nearly makes a face. She is so not interested in boys. Kissing. Whatever else she is now expected to do just because some boy has her stars. 

He wrings his hands together and it strikes her as a very nervous gesture. MJ tilts her head in curiosity. She observes him keenly. She has never _really_ looked at Peter Parker before. He is always hanging out with Ned Leeds, who is loud enough for the pair of them. Peter always managed to melt into the background. 

And he has her stars. 

"My Aunt wants to know if you wanna come over for dinner this week," he asks, shyly. 

Her eyebrows knit. "Why?" 

He looks over his shoulder and she spots Ned in the distance. The boy shoots up two thumbs, in exuberant support, and Peter turns back to face her. "Uh. Cause. We're soulmates." 

She is determined to ignore him for all of eternity. She doesn't want a soulmate. For some unknown reason, she says, "Okay." 

* * *

Dinner is nice. May Parker is the absolute coolest. She flirts around her small apartment like some kind of faerie. She is as magical as one, too. Michelle really, really likes her. She has a smile that makes her feel wanted and accepted. Ben Parker is quieter than his wife. But he is solid. He teethers his wife down to the ground and she notices that his stars are on the back of his hand. 

For the life of her, she can't find May's stars. 

Like he can read her thoughts, which annoys MJ a little, Peter answers her unspoken question, "Her stars are on her butt." 

Michelle's eyes spring open wide. The two preteens bend away from the adults cleaning in the kitchen in a silent pact of secrecy. "What?" she almost laughs.

Peter giggles a little. It is sweet. Boys should giggle more, she thinks. "Yeah. He was passing behind her at the Post Office. The back of his hand accidentally touched her butt." 

Michelle lights up, utterly delighted. "Oh my god!"

"I know." He smiles at her. 

Okay, Michelle decides. Maybe having a soulmate won't be so bad. It feels like a built-in best friend and Michelle could really use some friends. Especially if that friend is Peter Parker. 

"I don't wanna kiss you," she blurts out.

He goes bright red. She swallows thickly. "Uh. Okay," he finally responds. 

"I don't even think I like boys." It is the first time she has said that out loud. Girls are so pretty. She has always thought so. Boys had never caught her attention like girls did. It isn't like she can't spot that they are handsome, but boys can be so _cruel_. For the first time, she feels a little badly that Peter Parker is shackled to her stars. He is a nice boy. He deserves a nice girl. 

MJ isn't sure if she is a nice girl. 

He recovers spectacularly well. She likes him more and more. "That's okay," he says and she believes him. "There are soulmates that are platonic. Happens all the time." 

"No it doesn't," she contradicts him.

"No it doesn't," he agrees. "But it isn't unheard of. And I'm happy to be your friend, Michelle. If you'll have me," he adds, sheepishly. 

She beams and gnaws on her lip. "MJ." 

"What?" 

"My friends call me MJ." 

* * *

It turns out that being friends with Peter Parker is really, crazy easy. He is the nicest boy she has ever met. She feels badly that she hit him that day, but, when she says as much, he reasons that if she hadn't, they never would have become friends. Besides, he quirks with a grin, he likes his stars. 

Gaining Peter Parker also means she gains Ned Leeds. She doesn't mind. The three of them become a close knit group of buddies. And pretty soon everyone forgets about the scandal of their soulmate touch. There are other more pressing things to deal with in middle school and the drama of their soulmate touch becomes a distant memory. 

When they graduate middle school in eighth grade, all three freshly minted teenagers get accepted to Midtown. Michelle nearly heaves with relief. She doesn't want to start over at a new school without her friends. She has a hard enough time fitting in at a normal school than a freaky, genius school without them. 

And then, Ben Parker dies, the summer going into high school. 

She feels like a pretty useless soulmate. 

The way Peter used to smile becomes a distant memory. May Parker, the faerie queen once tethered to the Earth by Ben Parker, practically floats away in the wake of his death. Weekly dinners at the Parkers become monthly dinners and then stop all-together. 

She tries not to be hurt when Peter pulls away completely. 

By the time they enter Midtown, her soulmate is as good as a stranger. 

She sits on the periphery of her friendship. Observing Peter closely, like she is afraid any day he will break, or maybe he already has. 

The only solace she has is a new school means that nobody knows about her soulmate touch aside from Ned. She can trust him not to spill the beans. Besides, her soulmate bond is platonic. It shouldn't hold Peter back. Or her. Midtown might as well be a fresh start for the pair of them, she reasons. 

(It hurts to be left behind).

* * *

Liz Allen-Toomes happens like an unexpected tsunami of feelings. She watches from the sidelines as her once best friend fawns over the prettiest girl in school. She gets it, she _really_ gets it, Liz is beautiful and smart and kind, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. MJ had always foolishly believed that when Peter fell in love she would be there with him to share in the next chapter of his life. They aren't twelve anymore. She wants to support him. 

Now she is relegated to the sidelines. 

It hurts more than she can express when she overhears him one day, talking to Liz about her stars dotted on his face, and he says, "My soulmate bond is platonic." 

Liz's smiles softly. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah," Peter smiles right back. "She, uh, likes girls. It isn't like that between us." 

The truth shouldn't hurt her. It does.

* * *

She kisses Cindy Moon on their class trip to DC. Or, more aptly, Cindy Moon kisses MJ after she helps the decathlon team win. It is in the heat of victory that the girl leans over and slants her mouth over MJ's lips. It is the softest press of lips and Michelle is stunned. Cindy tucks her hair behind her ear and shrugs. 

Michelle smiles. 

Happiness doesn't last. One minute she is contemplating how she is going to kiss Cindy again and the next the Washington Monument is under attack. She watches helplessly from the ground as her friends are in danger. She shouts for Spider-Man--SPIDER-MAN??-- to help her friends. _Please_. Ned is up there. Cindy, too. Heck. Even Flash. 

It is the longest, most tense five minutes of her young life, and only when her classmates are rushing out of the monument safely does Michelle have a moment to consider how bizarre it is that Spider-Man happened to be in DC. 

* * *

She starts to build a case in her head about Spider-Man the day of the Washington Monument. As the school year progresses in weird, freaky fashion, her theory starts to gain some traction. She watches Peter closely, still missing him, but it is different now. The way she looks at him is not about their soulmate bond. Michelle all but puts it away. 

This is something more significant than their measly soulmate bond. 

And when Liz Allen-Toomes father goes to prison, Michelle is 67% certain Peter Parker is Spider-Man. 

* * *

The snap happens. 

Michelle stops thinking for a long time.

Five years, to be precise.

* * *

When she comes back to her body, the first thing she frantically looks for are her stars. She opens her palm and sobs with relief that the belt of stars still ribbon on her hand. 

* * *

He looks utterly broken when she sees him next. She saw him last week and five years ago all-at-once, and she misses him so much. The two soulmates fall into each other's arms. She feels how drawn out his shoulders are, how strung out he feels in her embrace, and she forgets about Spider-Man for a moment. _Peter needs her_. 

"I'm so sorry," he cries into her shoulder. 

"It's okay, Peter," she insists, clinging to him so tightly that the two teens sway unsteadily. 

He cries for a long time, practically slobbering into her shirt. She can't find the heart to be mad. She peeks at his cheek and spots her stars. MJ closes her eyes and doesn't let him go for a long time. 

* * *

High School is weird after. 

But she gets Peter back. The two of them lean on each other the way they used to when they were kids. She can't find the heart to be mad that the universe ended. It brought him back to her, exactly where he was meant to be. 

He sprawls himself out on the couch, pillowing his head in her lap, and she absently braids little plaits in his hair. "You need a haircut," she smiles. 

Peter only hums in response. 

"I'm serious," she laughs. 

"Will you stop braiding my hair?" he asks, seriously. 

"It won't be long enough," she reasons. 

"No haircuts," he says definitively, nuzzling his nose against her stomach. 

* * *

Everything happens for a reason. If she hadn't hit Peter Parker in the face all those years ago, she never would have gained her best friend. If the world had not ended, she never would have gotten him back, after the tragedy of Ben Parker. If the blip hadn't devastated Earth, maybe she never would have become friends with Brad. 

She has more friends now than she ever imagined she would have, back as a lonely kid in Queens. It is nice to be wanted. 

"Of course you like Brad," Peter frowns, as she helps him pack for Europe.

Michelle rolls her eyes. They have had twelve versions of this fight in the last week alone. "He isn't my soulmate, Peter. You are. I can have more than one guy friend." 

"He doesn't want to be just your friend," he mumbles. 

She flicks a pair of shorts at his head. "Knock it off. Jealousy isn't cute on you." 

"He likes you." 

"So what?" she says. 

He doesn't say anything else, but the rest of the afternoon is effectively ruined. Peter can sulk better than anyone she knows. She wonders if he learned that from Tony Stark. She wonders if Peter will ever tell her about Tony Stark and all the other secrets he hides not-so-conspicuously in his closet. 

* * *

"So, what's the deal with your stars," Betty asks, as they settle-in together on the plane. 

Michelle reflexively closes her hand into a fist. Her stars are personal. She can tell the blonde doesn't mean to offend her. Curiosity isn't a sin. And yet. "I, uh, have a soulmate." 

"Yeah," Betty says flatly. "I gathered that much." 

Michelle feels her neck heat in embarrassment. "It's not what you think." 

"What do you mean?" 

"It's with a guy. And I like girls. So." 

"Exclusively?" Betty asks, innocently.

The question knocks her on her ass. If she was not already sitting down, she would need to find her seat. Michelle whispers, "What do you mean?" 

"Do you like girls exclusively or...?"

"Um. I--"

"It's totally cool if you do. Just wondering." 

"No," MJ swallows roughly. "No, it's fine. I, uh, is it weird if I say I've never really thought about it?" 

"No," Betty says, reaching for her book in the backpack at her feet. She is nonplussed. It almost offends MJ, how Betty can manage to rock her entire world and go about her day like nothing happened. "You like who you like." 

She peaks at Peter, sitting a few rows in front of her to the left, and realizes that _that_ might be the problem. 

* * *

Once she knows, really knows, that she likes Peter in _that_ way, it becomes impossible to be near him. But she can't seem to stay away. 

He has her stars. 

She orbits him like the sun. He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he relishes in her delayed sunshine. Like he had always been waiting for her to shine down on him. 

Platonic soulmates did exist. 

But Michelle Jones did not have one. 

* * *

"I'm not gay," she tells him in Venice. 

He nearly falls in the canal. "What?" 

"Yeah," she shrugs and tries to play off how cool she is when her insides are panicking. "Pretty sure I'm bi. So." 

A smile eats his face. She has never seen him look so, well, wholly Peter. Not since before everything went wrong. She is twelve years old again and back in his kitchen. They are sharing secrets over a plate of hastily made pasta that is barely edible, courtesy of May. It is giddy and childlike and, _Jesus_ , how could she have missed this? 

"Cool," he says, very uncool-like. He can barely speak, his smile is so wide, and she starts to smile, too. "Cool," he says again. 

"Very cool," she agrees. "Girls are still very beautiful. And I like them." 

He is practically bouncing with joy. "Totally agree." 

"Right. Just. You know, some boys are nice, too." 

"Yep. Sure."

"The bare minimum of boys."

"Girls. I like them most."

"Just. Uh. Bisexual me. I mean. I'm bisexual. MJ is...that. Me. Bi." 

"Hey, MJ--"

The world erupts and the canal becomes the home to a fucking sea monster. Just when Peter was about to tell her, well, she can't be certain what. Fucking sea monster. She wants to throttle it with her bare hands.

* * *

It takes until Prague for them to be alone together again. 

She starts their romantic--hopefully-- walk with some mind-numbing facts about murder and the bridge they are on. She could throw herself off of the bridge from how embarrassed she is at her behavior. Peter is her best friend. He is her soulmate. Nothing has changed. She peeks at him. Except everything. 

Michelle knows she is not imagining it when their hands nearly touch. 

He is going to tell her how he feels, how he has probably felt for years but didn't put on her because he is so good and kind and took her and her sexuality at her word. She doesn't know how she knows, but she knows, and she isn't sure she is ready for everything to change, so she blurts out, "You're Spider-Man." 

The conversation devolves from there. She watches his shoulders fall and she wants to run to him. 

"Peter--"

"You, uh, didn't tell me you were bisexual because you like _me_ , did you? You told me because of Brad." 

The gadget he is holding in his hand glimmers to life and they are suddenly encased in an illusion. 

There is no time for them to talk about, well, _them_. The world is in danger. Peter and MJ will have to wait. 

* * *

"Peter!" she shouts, running toward him on the smoking bridge. He limps toward her and they collide. She heaves a sob into his shoulder and he holds her so tightly he manages to lift her off of her feet. 

"Oh my god, MJ," he exhales in bone-deep relief. "You're okay," he says aloud, like the reminder is more for him than her. "You're okay." 

"Did you do it?" she asks, as he lowers her to her feet, and she finally gets a good look at his weary face. She doesn't want to know if it is his own blood that mars his face or someone else's. Neither answer would give her much comfort. 

His eyes become a storm. "Yeah." 

Her starred palm touches the side of his face, a gentle echo of the first time they touched, and he covers her hand with his own. His eyes flutter shut. "Our stars," she whispers in awe. 

His eyes open. They are so wounded and vulnerable and she wonders when was the last time someone took care of him. Really took care of him. "Em, I--he's...Beck is dead." 

"It wasn't your fault," she says and somehow she knows that is true. Peter would never intentionally hurt anyone. It isn't in him. He would always find another way. He shakes his head as his eyes fill with tears. "It wasn't," she says more steadily. "You did everything you could. You saved me." 

"I'm so in love with you," he says half-laughing, like he expects her to turn him away. Even now. After everything. 

She smiles shyly, "I'm so in love with you, too." 

"Yeah?" 

MJ nods, as she feels that familiar warmth that only Peter can inspire fill her to the brim. "Yeah." 

He ducks his head like he is going to kiss her and stops right before their lips meet. She sees his cheeks flush and it makes his stars look so pretty. Her stars. "I'm going to kiss you now," he announces. "Cool?"

She nods, "Totally cool." 

He laughs, "Cool." And he kisses her. Just like he promised. 

And with her hand cupping his cheek, their stars meet. 


End file.
